


The Opposite of Hunger

by MJosephine10



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, I’ve written this fic about 3 times, for emily, i wanted to write it again, idc, this is what I want from IX
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-12-07 13:37:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20976782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MJosephine10/pseuds/MJosephine10
Summary: in a thousand lifetimes, I’d still know you.





	The Opposite of Hunger

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Merricat_Blackwood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merricat_Blackwood/gifts).

He knew something was different before he fully came to.

He felt it in his bones and behind his eyes- a softness that seemed to wrap itself around him, sweet and sharp.

It felt—the feeling was so new and strange he didn’t recognize it at first- like the opposite of hunger and longing. Like peace.

He knew it wasn’t real and fought oncoming consciousness as hard as he could, knowing the presence, whatever it was, would slip away the closer he came to reality.

He was like a sleeper who tries too hard to stay asleep and so wakes up. Reality settled in around him and he was aware again of his body stretched out on the ground and the familiar dull ache in his chest. His head throbbed.

But as these signs of life slipped back into him the softness didn’t disappear. It hardened into something more solid, he smelled sweat and dirt, and felt a coarse fabric against his cheek. He fought down a rising panic in his chest at the fact that the presence didn’t disappear but wrapped him tighter.

Wretchedness pervaded him now. The more real the peace felt the more gasping and empty he would be left when it evaporated. And it always did. Peace was not his allotment in life. It was not meant for him no matter how badly he wanted it.

There was a shift underneath and above him—the source of the presence moved and then. was gone.

Pain and loss, great gusts of it, settled back into his form, reclaiming their rightful place.

Tears pricked the back of his eyelids and a sudden, sharp protest welled up within him, a bitter cry of agony, but he smothered it quickly.

_This what you were made for, here’s where you belong. _

The words he’d heard so long ago, the first time he’d run away, the first time he stepped into the darkness and had been welcomed by it with velvet arms of pain, echoed again in his mind.

His mantra, his prayer.

If he said the words enough, the bitterness would leave. He could surrender again, feel safe in the darkness.

The familiar dullness, dark and heavy, was on the point of overtaking him completely when he felt the presence return. It had an air of danger to it this time—cold and sharp like high wind on a clear day.

He could not stop the answering leap of his heart, the jolt of hope that ran through him instantly. He was ashamed of it but then resigned.

He had always been weak. He had always loved what had hurt him.

There was a confused swirl and then the sweetness, the softness, the opposite of hunger came closer and hardened into a form. He felt it reach out, lift his upper body and settle it into folds of a garment. The presence bent and kissed his forehead; a cold hand smoothed away a few strands of hair.

A thrill, a clean, pure line of what was almost pain, ran through him.

In a flash, he saw that he was in the lap of a girl in a brown tunic with her hair pulled back into three buns. Her face was smudged with dirt and sweat.

He would know that face anywhere.

_Rey _

He didn’t say it so much as breathe it. Or rather. it breathed through him, loosening and untying the knots of fear and hope that had been coiling and recoiling in his chest, dissipating the ache of the darkness like mist in sunshine.

She said nothing but kissed him again and suddenly he heard in his heart the words she had put there.

_Help is on the way. Sleep. I’ll keep watch_.

As he fell asleep he heard the familiar words:

_this is what you were made for, here’s where you belong. _

But this time the words were stripped of bitterness.

They did not smother. They sank into him like water into dry ground.

Their color, instead of black, was a simple dove gray.


End file.
